tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20174783089558133462018-03-05T07:36:06.036-08:00laikifanfictionDecided to move any fanfiction I have written here instead of clogging up my other page. I'm no Stephen King, but I hope you enjoy my work. :)icequeen100http://www.blogger.com/profile/14832331155600429798noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2017478308955813346.post-74662811641861981742010-11-02T09:52:00.001-07:002010-11-02T09:52:33.459-07:00The Blue Line, Chapter 6<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">She could have died. She could have died, and I helped that bastard Marino instead of helping her.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Maura sat alone in her living room, her tortoise busy moving around in the kitchen. It was quiet in her house, except for the rhythmic tic-tic-tic of the clock hanging up on the wall. Clutching a warm cup of coffee in her hands, she ran and re-ran scenarios of what happened that day in her mind; hearing Jane scream in rage and grief, hearing the gun go off and seeing both officers go down with one bullet…<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Even though it had happened a week ago, even though if it hadn’t been for her Frankie would be dead…going into work since the shooting had been as close to Hell as she had experienced so far; on the receiving end of more frosty glares and thinly-veiled mutters behind her back then she’d ever previously received before, this was probably the first time ever since Jane came into her life as her best friend that she felt alone. Maura knew the tightly-knit community of Boston cops wouldn’t soon forgive her for saving Marino’s life. Korsak himself had stripped the disgraced cop of his badge.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Ironically enough, all three were still in the same hospital recovering from their injuries, with Jane apparently becoming the clear winner for first one out. Surprisingly enough, Marino WAS, in fact, still alive, even though getting his guard duty caused the unsurprising amount of mutters and curses. It had been rumored that some of his chosen guards had “accidentally” pressed down on his injured leg, just to hear him cry out in agony. Those were just rumors, however, and he wasn’t talking in any case to anyone. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Feeling suddenly tired, she decided to call it a day, not looking forward to another day of thinly veiled animosity. She couldn’t wait until Jane returned to work, but knew it would be awhile yet.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">She shot me. <o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">That fucking bitch SHOT me.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Honestly I should have just killed them all in the Autopsy room when I had the chance, before I shot my partner in crime. Better odds.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The look on Jane’s face was priceless. She couldn’t believe it; all that shit I had talked about Danny being a dirty cop when in fact all along it’d been me; classic!<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">And then, fighting with me - with ME – as I dragged her out of headquarters; she’s lucky I didn’t just blow her damn brains out. She took care of that herself though after I told her that Frankie was probably dead already; yeah, dick move, I’ll admit, but FUCK she was pissing me off, fighting me, telling CRT to shoot me. Fuck THAT.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I heard a lot about Rizzoli in the departments scuttlebutt; more of a tomboy lesbian than anything else, being stalked by some whacked out serial killer. He probably would have been happy that I offed her, had I had the opportunity. Oh well.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Fucking dick beat cops, acting all high and mighty and shit, practically torturing me while I lay in this bed. Like they wouldn’t have done the same, in my position. Hypocrites…drugs are easy money, and boy I made a lot of it…until I was found out.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>One of them told me snidely that Jane and her brother Frankie were here as well. Well whoop-dee-doo for them. If it hadn’t been for Jane, I would be home free right now. No. The dumb bitch had to get involved, and because of her, here I was.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I smile, leaning my head back into the hospital pillow. She was going to pay for this. I would see to that.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Laikifanfiction/~4/v2H_GdU2sXY" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>icequeen100http://www.blogger.com/profile/14832331155600429798noreply@blogger.com6http://laikifanfiction.blogspot.com/2010/11/blue-line-chapter-6.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2017478308955813346.post-21429127724119040722010-11-02T09:50:00.001-07:002010-11-02T09:50:27.573-07:00IFDKMIGTHTKY (Ch.3)<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">Jane stared at the dead woman hanging from a pipe in the center of the laundry room, and frowned. Something didn’t feel right, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Maura on the other hand was busy getting the body ready for transport back to her lab, while making sure that all the evidence was collected correctly.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">I don’t want to be here, something is off. Somethingisoffsomethingisoffsomething is off! </b>Everything<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp; </span>screamed it, but she couldn’t pinpoint it and it was beginning to drive her nuts. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">Out of the corner of her eye while getting ready to cut down the body, Maura noticed that Jane was rubbing her scars furiously, while studying the crime scene.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">She doesn’t even realize she’s doing it…<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">“So, where’s that suicide note? Let’s see it,” Jane said briskly, taking it from Frosts’ offered hand.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Hello all, I can’t live like this anymore. Even though you have all been supportive of me through the hard times, this is just too much for me to bear. Life, for me, is no longer worth living. Life has become a burden. Of course, never forget that I love you all.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Jerry, I know you love my cats, so they are yours if you’d like them. Andrew, the computer’s yours. Nate, take the books, you’ll love them all I’m sure. Everyone, I love you all…goodbye.</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Interesting note. Well, Frost, let’s get a head shot of her to pass around to the employees, if there’s no identification on her. Korsak, we need to have a chat with security.” The older detective nodded as Jane gave the note to a Crime Scene Tech, and she nodded goodbye to Maura as she left, knowing that the ME would be heading back to her offices with the body.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“This case seems hinky,” Korsak said suddenly. “Hinky as Hell.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“How so?” Jane replied with a smirk as they walked towards the front desk.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Can’t put my finger on it, but somethin’ was off about that crime scene. Hinky.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Hmph. Well, when you can come up with a definition for your hinky-ness, you let me know,” Jane replied dryly, before turning her attention towards the host. Flipping her badge, she asked for security, and both Detectives were taken to the office.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Detectives,” The lone man in the office said gravely when they entered, “Aidan Choudhry, head of security. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.” He shook both of their hands. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“You’re not the only one,” Korsak replied grimly, folding his arms over his chest. “You know why we’re here then, of course.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Of course,” The head of security echoed, agreeing with the older detective. “One of the members of our laundry staff was going to grab some stuff out of the dryers when she found the body.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Any possible idea who she might be…?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“She’s not a member of our staff,” Aidan replied quickly. “I know every employee that works here, screen them myself. I’ve never seen her before.” Aidan replied grimly, leaning back in his chair.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Interesting…we will have to snag the footage you may have…say, the last couple of days,” Jane stated, her eyes sliding over the security equipment. Aidan inclined his head in agreement.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Anything you need, detectives,” Aidan replied. “It will take awhile, but I’ll send someone over to..?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Headquarters,” Korsak supplied for him, and Aidan nodded.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Headquarters with the tapes. Will that be acceptable…?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“That would be fine, thanks,” Jane said, nodding, and the two detectives left.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Loving the cooperation,” Korsak said drolly as they crossed the street to where Frost was patiently waiting by their cruisers.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Jane just grunted as she slid into her unmarked cruiser. “Meet you back at headquarters?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Of course.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>Frost hopped into the passenger’s seat and they followed Korsak back to the office.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“So what do you think…Suicide?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Maybe,” Jane replied, her mind elsewhere. “We’ll have to wait for Maura to say for sure.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Okay, but do you think she’ll say any different?” Jane shrugged. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“I don’t know. Something was off about that whole scene…I can’t put my finger on it, but it felt off.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“What did, exactly?” Frost asked curiously. Jane frowned.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“The whole scene…it was like…” She sighed, trying to get her thoughts together. “Like it had been staged almost. There were a shit ton of pipes in that room. She could have just hung herself from one of those, and her body still would have been noticed. It’s the fact that she hung herself right in the middle of the room that sets off alarm bells.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“You thinking it might have been staged…?<br /><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>“A little…maybe. We’ll have to see if we can find anything else about our Jane Doe.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Arriving back at BPD Headquarters, they instead found themselves assigned to other cases that the Lieutenant thought were more important, and for the time being the Detectives saw their Jane Doe case go onto the back burner.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">It wasn’t until almost ten o’clock that night that Jane ended up trudging to her vehicle in the parking lot to leave. She had a ton of paperwork to get done and had thankfully got most of it accomplished for the night.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>Not even bothering with dinner, she collapsed on her bed, exhausted, soon sliding into sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“All our blood lying on the floor<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Sends the crowd expecting something more<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Opened up, proudly on display<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">What we tried so hard to hide away…”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">She whimpered as the sharp scalpels did more damage to her hands. Moving them even a fraction was agony, and she was trying not to give this bastard above her any more satisfaction from her misery. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">He grinned, flicking another scalpel to and fro in front of her eyes in the dim light of the dying light bulb above the three of them. She hadn’t meant for this; hadn’t planned for this to happen. But here it was; Dr. Cordell was still lying off to the side, she was pinned to the ground, two scalpels in her palms, and Hoyt was laughing at her in glee<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Where had she gone wrong…?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Blinding light illuminates the scene<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Trying to fill the spaces in between<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Arms in-twined in a final pose<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Narrative drawing to a close<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Still remain the things we couldn’t kill<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">In your eyes I can see it still…”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Hello Detective Rizzoli…can I call you Janie? A shame we had to meet like this. A shame indeed. I didn’t expect you or your fellows to be nearly competent enough, but you succeeded admirably. Nice job.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Screw you,” Jane snarled, fury shining through in her dark eyes, and Hoyt grinned maliciously.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Poor choice of words, Janie…because I intend to do exactly that to you, and you will find out how pleasurable pain can be…”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“How we choose the framing of the scene<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Hate begins to spill across the screen<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Blinding light illuminates the scene<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Trying to fill the spaces in between-“<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Jane cried out as she forced herself awake, and for the rest of the night she stayed up, terrified that Hoyt would make another reappearance…<o:p></o:p></span></div><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Laikifanfiction/~4/yBqBZ0OWPfk" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>icequeen100http://www.blogger.com/profile/14832331155600429798noreply@blogger.com0http://laikifanfiction.blogspot.com/2010/11/ifdkmigthtky-ch3.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2017478308955813346.post-47377723449715949422010-11-02T09:45:00.000-07:002010-11-02T09:45:00.387-07:00The Blue Line, Chapter 5<div class="post-body entry-content" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 580px;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Streetlights cast a dim orange glow outside her hospital room window, and she could hear the ever present sound of sirens in the night, as well as people walking outside in the hallway. Everyone who had visited her had gone home.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">At least, she thought they had; she didn’t know for certain but she thought she had seen a Korsak - sized mass sleeping in one of the notoriously uncomfortable chairs outside her hospital room.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">She wanted to laugh at the thought but GODDAMN didn’t that hurt- so she tried to focus on not laughing about it…which, unfortunately, was easy enough for her to do considering the day’s previous events.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">As expected, her parents had stopped by to visit her, and as expected Jane was able to catch the vibe from her mom that she was ultimately to blame for her brother being shot, even though he had been shot while she was still in interrogation with the only witness left over from Marino’s dirty dealings (who was killed soon after).<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Her father, as usual, sent his wife some sharp “knock it off” looks and tried to soften the blow of what Angela was saying, but God didn’t it hurt. Unable to speak, Jane just laid there as her mother ran up one side and down the other, and she didn’t lift a finger in her own defense.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Because truth be told, she DID feel responsible.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">She shouldn’t and she knew that; but seeing her little brother laying on the floor of the stairwell, she could feel the guilt rising up. It had, after all, been her that had motioned for Frankie to join her, Marino and Maura back at Headquarters when everyone else was going to stay at the scene. She hadn’t pulled the trigger - no, it had been one of the drug dealers that Marino killed who had done that deed – but her mother made it sound and made her feel like she had shot him point blank in the chest. It had gotten her angry enough to give her mother a death glare and to turn away from her parents, the only real act of defiance she was able to muster in the hospital bed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Needless to say they had left soon after, with her mother making it quite clear she didn’t want to see her for awhile after she had recovered enough to leave the hospital. Her fists beginning to clench, Jane worked on calming herself down enough to try and fall back asleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">(Frankie)<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Geez Moms can be such a pain. I just woke up a couple of hours ago and you would’ve thought I had died and been resurrected by Jesus Christ himself the way mom was acting. Treating me is if I was ten again, and Jane had made me cry uncle out in the front yard after stealing her favorite baseball glove. I can just imagine what fun I’ll have once I get out of here; moms planning on sprucing up my room in order to recover there. GREAT. Didn’t see Tommy but apparently he was here in the hospital.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">I love her to death, but really she needs to realize that not everything bad that happens to me is Jane’s fault. I know I’m her favorite kid; it’s pretty much common knowledge within our family. But this blaming Jane thing has gotta stop. Wasn’t her fault I got shot. Shit, wasn’t my fault I got shot. Just wrong place at the wrong time. I’m gonna have to talk to mom about this later and it isn’t a conversation I’m looking forward to, knowwhatimsayin’?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Heh, BPD sprang for flowery bouquets. That’s pretty funny. Chances are that rat bastard Finnegan had a hand in this. Ah well, have to thank the boys later. Starting to get tired.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">I wonder where Jane is, by the way? I haven’t seen her yet and noone’s said anything. Probably still burning the midnight oil at Headquaters, haha! Anyways, these drugs are pretty damn good…hmm. Naptime.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>(Korsak)<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><b>She could have died today. She could have died and I would have lost the best partner I’ve ever had. If she’d died, Marino would have bled out on that pavement, I tell you that much. Rat bastard. I’ve asked IA how they could have missed him but they haven’t been exactly forthcoming with that information. Why am I not surprised? The Rat Squad never is.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>After the crime scene was processed, people began working the case automatically; didn’t even have to ask them. The Doc took the shootings hard though; you’ve been a cop as long as I have you notice these things. She didn’t talk much about what had happened in the crime lab, but you could tell it wasn’t good.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Glancing into Jane’s hospital room I feel a lump rise in my throat. Even though the Hoyt thing was bad, her life hadn’t been in danger from the injuries. Mentally she was far more wounded then she was physically. But this…this was bad. Frost told me they had lost her en route, but that he’d shocked her back to life, thank frigging God for that. She was a fighter though, my Jane. To Hell with Marino, to Hell with Hoyt, and to Hell with anyone else that got in her way.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Marino. Just thinking about that miserable weasel burns my ass. I have no doubt in my mind he was going to use Jane to get himself as far from Headquarters as he could get, then kill her when she was of no further use. He wouldn’t have made it far, so she had to know time was of the essence. She did the only thing she could have done, though I have to admit it wasn’t too bright of Marino to bring Frankie’s name into it. Fucking bastard. I wonder if someone’s taken the time to read that miserable shit his rights yet? Meh, fuck it. Get to it tomorrow. When my butt isn’t numb from this chair.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><span>&nbsp;</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">(Angela)<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><b>Halfway across the city, two of my kids are in the hospital. One of them is here, in his old room, and my husband is sound asleep beside me, snoring.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>I don’t have that luxury.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>I know I was hard on Jane today. I know it. I was terrified though…that not only would I lose her but Frankie as well. Losing one kid to the job is bad enough, but two? Unthinkable. They both need to do something safer. Something where they don’t run the risk of getting killed during a traffic stop gone wrong, or a serial killer finishing up his work…<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Oh yeah, I know all about that Hoyt thing. That guy is certifiably a whack-job if I’ve ever seen one, and trust me, after living through the deinstitutionalization of the mental institutions here in Mass, I’ve seen my fair share.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Why did she have to be a cop? Why did he?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Neither one of them has ever been able to answer the question. My husband, when I had asked him awhile back, had just shrugged and said “Some people are called to it.” Maybe. But some people would call that crazy, especially if you were risking your life day in and day out. Others would call it bravery.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>My Janie and Frankie are the two bravest cops on the force. Tomorrow I gotta go apologize to Jane. Tell her I’m sorry.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Tomorrow…</span></b></div></div><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Laikifanfiction/~4/KHT5oVO3izY" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>icequeen100http://www.blogger.com/profile/14832331155600429798noreply@blogger.com0http://laikifanfiction.blogspot.com/2010/11/blue-line-chapter-5.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2017478308955813346.post-80252931699650101192010-11-02T09:44:00.000-07:002010-11-02T09:44:03.541-07:00The Blue Line, Chapter 4 (Rizzoli and Isles fanfic)<div class="post-body entry-content" style="line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 580px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Anyways...if you're reading this and wondering wtf it is, Check out TNT.tv or the books by Tess Gerritsen (on whom the tv show is based on.)</span></span><br /><br /><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>Day of the Shooting<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">He was bored. The CO’s had him in segregation once again, unsurprisingly. Charles Hoyt smirked. He was pretty comfortable in here, actually, and he had his ways of getting information and other things when he needed them, whether or not he was in AdSeg or not.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">Some woman had sent him some lavender the other day, claiming that it was her favorite scent. He had promptly tossed the letter out, but had kept the lavender.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">It reminded him of someone else, someone far more…worthy…of his attention.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">His dark thoughts were interrupted by a note slid under his door.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">YOUR COP GOT SHOT AT HEADQUARTERS. GOOD.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Janie…” He sat up abruptly on his cot, feeling a tinge of (worry?) spread within him.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>Was he REALLY worried about the woman who had shot his hands, after he had impaled hers?<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>Was he REALLY worried about the woman whom he wanted to dominate…?</b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">He found he was.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">He could a TV somewhere, faint but he was barely able to make out what was being said.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Dana Green with Channel 7 News. I’m reporting live from Boston Police Headquarters here at Schroeder Plaza, where a deadly shootout has occurred…”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">A deadly shootout? His interest was piqued.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“…What can you tell us?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I can tell you that a tragedy happened here today. While I cannot go into too many details, pending further investigation by authorities, I can tell you that earlier today a group of thugs walked right through the front door of Boston Police Department Headquarters here at Schroeder Plaza and started shooting. So far there are three known fatalities but more are expected, and the police officers around me appear to be in almost a state of shock that something like this occurred under their noses.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I’m sure they’re going to want answers, them and Mayor Menino both.”<br /><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“Indeed they are, Dawn. The Mayor has been rumored to be pushing Commissioner Surel to hand over jurisdiction on this case over to the FBI, as he feels the police department may be less than impartial in this case.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Understandable…Dana, you mentioned some fatalities earlier; were there any wounded?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Yes Dawn, there were quite a few wounded in the shootout- three that we know about were police officers. Officer Frankie Rizzoli and Detectives Bobby Marino and Jane Rizzoli were all taken to the hospital with gunshot wounds…while they’re all expected to recover, their injuries are considered serious at this time. The Department is not releasing any more names at this time until their family members have been notified, nor are they giving us concrete details about what occurred. We will however be following this story very closely, and should have some more updates at eleven.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Thanks Dana, how horrific. Now, onto sports. The Red Sox won’t be heading into the offseason after all, losing to the Yankees last night…”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">He stopped paying attention to the TV, thinking about what he’d just heard.<b>&nbsp;Jane was shot. HIS Jane was shot.<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">He wasn’t surprised to find himself furious at the thought that someone else had tried to take what was rightfully his.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>Someone tried to kill Janie…well now. Someone’s going to have to pay dearly for that…</b></div></div><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Laikifanfiction/~4/L3rGUFl7uDM" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>icequeen100http://www.blogger.com/profile/14832331155600429798noreply@blogger.com0http://laikifanfiction.blogspot.com/2010/11/blue-line-chapter-4-rizzoli-and-isles.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2017478308955813346.post-60352763069101478492010-11-02T05:16:00.001-07:002010-11-02T05:16:45.297-07:00The Blue Line, Chapter 3<h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 20px; position: relative;"><a href="http://lifeasiknowit31.blogspot.com/2010/09/blue-line-chapter-3.html" style="font: normal normal bold 20px/normal 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">The Blue Line, Chapter 3</span></a></h3><div class="post-header" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.6; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div class="post-header-line-1"></div></div><div class="post-body entry-content" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 580px;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;</span>He wasn’t looking forward to doing this, but he had done it many times in the past, and this wouldn’t be the last time.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Knocking on the door to the Rizzoli family home, Korsak was greeted by Angela, Frankie and Jane’s mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“Mrs. Rizzoli,” Korsak began, “I’m-”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“-I know who you are,” she interrupted him. “You’re Jane’s old partner.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“Yes. There’s been an accident at Headquarters…Jane and Frankie were both shot.” Their mother paled and sank against the doorframe, looking at him horrified.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“Are…are they…”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“They’re still alive,” Korsak added hastily, wincing. He should have gotten that in earlier. “They’ve been taken to New England Baptist.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“Jesus Christ,” She muttered, wringing her hands. “Wait here.” Korsak nodded as Angela ran back inside her house.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“Tommy! Get your father, now!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">*****<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Pain.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">She felt it when through her, and she was feeling it now as she woke up.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Panic set in as she glanced around, unfamiliar with her surroundings, but she calmed down once she saw Frost snoring in a chair and heard the tell-tale sounds that one would only find in a hospital.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Goddamn it my throat is killing me ah shit<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">SHIT FROST WAKE UP AND TAKE THIS DAMN THING OUTTA MY THROAT…!<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Slapping the side of the bedrail, she was able to wake up her partner who was a light sleeper. Frost smiled as soon as he saw what woke him; his older partner glaring at him from her hospital bed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“Jane, thank God. They said you were going to be ok, but goddamn I was worried; you should’ve seen Korsak, he was practically slave driving the doctors earlier to make sure you pulled through-“He stopped when he saw her hand move.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“You want to tell me something?” At her thumbs up, he grinned. “Sure thing.” Grabbing a pen and a small tablet of paper from the stand nearby, he gave it to his older partner, who, still loopy from the painkillers which were wearing off, wrote like a ten year old. The message,&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">however, was clear.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Frankie?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">The smile slid off of Frost’s face.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Oh no OH NO DON’T YOU SAY IT FROST<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“Well…”He sat back down in the chair, and took one of her scarred hands in his own. Upon seeing her expression, he sighed. “Because of all the internal bleeding, they weren’t sure if he was going to make it, but he made it through surgery…he’s in critical condition though.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Jane closed her eyes in relief.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Jesus Christ if Mom ever found out that Frankie got shot-<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Oh NO.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">She scribbled that down as her next question, looking horrified.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Mom? Family know?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“Yeah, yeah…Korsak went over and made the notification yesterday.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Well FUCK.&nbsp;</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">That meeting she wasn’t looking forward to.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Yesterday?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“Yeah…you went into surgery as soon as they brought you in and have been out cold ever since.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">She frowned darkly, and upon studying Frost’s confused look, wrote another name.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Marino.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“Yeah…he made it too…touch and go for awhile with him, considering the bullet tore his left lung all to Hell. Dr. Isles stabilized him until they put him in an ambulance, and I guess he flat-lined a couple of times on the table but…he’s in ICU now with a beat cop standing watch at his door.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Jane rolled her eyes in sarcasm<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">As if that fucker’s going to go anywhere<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Frost grinned, as if he could read her thoughts.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“It’s to keep other officers OUT, not to keep him IN. Surel thinks that perhaps…some of our fellow officers may act a little…rash.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">A little? I’d shoot that dirty bastard again!<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>She attempted to smirk but the tube made that difficult.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><i>What now?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“Your parents were in the cafeteria…I told them I’d let them know once you woke up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Jane winced visibly. She already knew what her mom’s reaction would be, and she wasn’t really looking forward to it.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“Hey, you ok?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><i>Fine, just a little sore<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“I would think that’d be an understatement,” Frost said, admiration tinging his voice. “Korsak stopped by last night to see how you and Frankie were. He’d be here now but Surel put him in charge of the scene at Headquarters, so he’s been busy with that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><i>Well shit, Korsak’s moving up in the world<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“Yeah, apparently the Lt. got his ass chewed out. Right now Superintendent Blake’s in charge while the Commish is away, and let me tell you, pretty much everyone’s out for Marino’s blood right now. There are bets going on whether or not he’ll even live to be transported to jail to await his trial.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><i>I bet…how much?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“I think it’s up to 500 now, but whether or not it’s legit or someone blowing smoke…” Frost shrugged.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Maura?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“She’s been busy with some of the autopsies, but she’s planning on stopping by-“<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“-Sooner than expected,” Maura interrupted from the doorway. Attempting to smile with the tube down her throat, Jane raised a shaky hand in greeting just before the Medical Examiner attempted to suffocate her in a hug. “Sorry, but…Jane, if you ever do that again, you and I are going to have a talk…I don’t want you on my table, is that understood?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Jane rolled her eyes in heavy sarcasm.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><i>Yes MOM<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“Good.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><i>So…how about them Red Sox?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Frost snorted before covering his mouth, and decided to leave the room upon seeing Maura give both officers a withering glare.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><i>So…can you take this fucking tube out of my throat?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Maura smirked, and shook her head no.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“Afraid not. You’re going to have that in there for awhile yet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><i>How bad.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Jane looked up at her, her eyes still managing to convey the seriousness of the question depite the fact she was still (according to the chart she was studying at the moment, anyways), heavily drugged.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“Well…<span class="apple-style-span">you suffered a single through-and-through GSW to the right lower thoracic space. They have you down as suffering from an open pneumothorax with right lower and probably right middle lobe lung involvement. The bullet missed your liver, thank God, or else you’d still be out at the very least.” Jane studied her friend for a moment, seeing the worry and relief in her eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><i>You seriously didn’t think I was going to make it, did you…?<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“...I wasn’t sure, no.” Maura sat down in the chair Frost had so recently vacated. “Seeing you take that shot…was horrifying.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Jane sighed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><i>I’m sorry. Had to.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“Why? He may have let you go and be dead right now.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><i>For Frankie.</i>&nbsp;Tears came unbidden to Jane’s eyes.&nbsp;<i>Because of him, Frankie could have DIED, HIS FAULT. He said that Frankie was probably already dead</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Abrubtly, Jane turned away from her, tears running uncontrollably down her face. Maura touched her arm lightly, and Jane composed herself before continuing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><i>Mom’s not going to forgive me for this. Dad will. She won’t.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“You don’t know that.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Jane shook her head fiercely.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><i>I DO know that. That day you reset my nose, we were playing a game of basketball, and SHE accused me of roughhousing with him. Now with him getting shot…he’s her favorite. Mor e so than me or Tommy. Besides, where are they? Frost said that they had been notified YESTERDAY. Where are they?<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“Well, they’re holding a vigil by Frankie’s bedside. He hasn’t come out of it yet.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Jane put down the pad and rubbed her scarred hands unconsciously, looking worn out and tired.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“Marino…while you did do some damage, he’s not going to die.” Jane glanced up at her for a second, and Maura could have sworn she saw fury in those eyes before they glanced away.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><i>I heard. You saved him.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Maura sighed. Even though she had written it, Maura could easily imagine Jane saying it flatly, indicating she was pissed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“…I had to. As a wise woman once said, ‘It’s what I do.’ I had the training necessary, Jane. I couldn’t let him bleed out like that.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><i>YOU SHOULD HAVE.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“Really?” Maura was getting angry now, and planted herself by the room’s window overlooking some of Mission Hill. “Yes, Jane, I could have let him bleed all over the sidewalk, and you and the rest of your fellow officers would have been THRILLED, I’m sure, but I’m NOT going to be like Hoyt. I’m not. And that’s what he would have done.” She turned to face her bedridden friend, and they stated at each other for a long moment.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><i>You’re right. I’m sorry. Didn’t think of that.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>“I know. It’s ok.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><i>We ok? Still friends?<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><span>&nbsp;</span>Maura smiled and nodded.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Always.”</span></span></div></div><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Laikifanfiction/~4/-G4C_vZdI_Q" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>icequeen100http://www.blogger.com/profile/14832331155600429798noreply@blogger.com1http://laikifanfiction.blogspot.com/2010/11/blue-line-chapter-3.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2017478308955813346.post-44547057325529106362010-11-02T05:11:00.000-07:002010-11-02T05:14:33.723-07:00Blue Line 2<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Hold her down, Detective,” the EMT ordered Frost, who nodded weakly as he held down his senior partner on the stretcher she was currently being strapped to, who was still trying to convince the EMT’s that she wasn’t going anywhere without seeing that her brother was taken care of first. Glancing over at Dr. Isles, he scowled darkly at the dirty cop she appeared to be helping as the EMT’s loaded Jane into the ambulance.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Where you taking her?” Korsak asked, his eyes filled with worry as he stared after his former partner, who was about to be taken away.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“New England Baptist,” The EMT responded quickly. “Beth Israel and Children’s Hospital are packed to the damn gills, and BMC and MGH are too far away.” Korsak nodded.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Okay, good deal. Frost, go with her. Make sure…” The older Detective fought to control his emotions, and Frost nodded, finishing his thought.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I know Korsak. She won’t be left alone, I swear it.” Vince nodded as Jane’s partner jumped into the back of the ambulance, and off it went, sirens screaming.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">Frankie was just now being loaded into another ambulance, an oxygen mask over his face. Vince sighed, running a weary hand over his forehead. Glancing over towards the Ruggles T station, he noticed that the vultures (In the form of Channels 7 and 5) had begun to gather, and that there were helicopters circling overhead. He cursed Cavanaugh silently. If it wasn’t for him this damned mess would never have happened, and his brother and sister officers would be safe.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">Silently praying the young patrolman out of D-4 and his sister would make it, he glanced over at the aforementioned Lieutenant, who was pale faced but still managing to bark out orders to the SRT and to any other cop in the vicinity. A sudden flash of hatred for the Lt. made him clench his fists, and he swore to himself that if either Rizzoli didn’t pull through he would spare nothing to make Cavanaugh’s life a living Hell.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">His phone rang suddenly, and he started, grabbing it and looking at the caller id. It said only one word, but that word was enough to make him swallow nervously.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>Commissioner<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>He must have heard about it while at City Hall,&nbsp;</b>Korsak reasoned.&nbsp;<b>Oh shit…someone’s head is going to be on the dinner menu on the fourth floor tonight.<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>“</b>Detective Korsak, Sir.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Korsak.” The Commissioner of the Boston Police Departments voice rumbled over the phone, “Explain to me how the holy Hell Headquarters is now the site of the O.K. Corral.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>FUCK ME,&nbsp;</b>Vince could only think in a panic, before replying.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Sir, perhaps Lt. Cavanaugh could answer that question better than I.” He glanced at his commanding officer, who was still talking with the SRT commander.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“If I wanted to get my ass kissed and some bullshit response, I would have called him,” The Commissioner said bluntly. “I wanted the truth, I called you. So, give me the details.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">Swallowing, Korsak began to relay the events of the day.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“He pulled every officer from HQ except for the Desk Seargent to work this case. On his way here,&nbsp;&nbsp;it’s believed that Marino informed his men about that order, and they took full advantage, bringing enough firepower with them to take out everyone and everything in the building, had they wanted to.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“How many down? I’m hearing conflicting reports.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Too many, Sir. Sgt. Bradley didn’t make it. A witness of Detective Clark’s murder was gunned down by Marino, and Officer Frankie Rizzoli, as well as his sister, Detective Jane Rizzoli, were just taken to New England Baptist with GSW’s and internal bleeding...it doesn’t look good. Marino…Jesus, Sir…Detective Rizzoli shot herself to take him out. He was holding her hostage, and she wasn’t going to go down that way. I don’t know if he’s going to live to stand trial or not.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Jesus bloody Goddamned Christ,” The Commissioner cursed, then began cursing fluently in Polish. Korsak winced visibly, enough to get Cavanaugh’s attention, who frowned and began striding towards him. “From now until I say so Korsak, you’re in charge of that scene. I’m on my way there now, but won’t be there long as I have that Conference in St. Louis to fly out to. Have Cavanaugh wait for me up in my office, and tell him he’d better think of a damned good explanation of the clusterfuck that occurred under his watch!”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Yes Sir…will that be all?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“It will. See you in fifteen.” Korsak hung up the phone and turned to face his nemesis.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Who was that on the phone?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Commissioner Surel.” It halted Cavanaugh in his tracks, enough to make the Lieutenant lick his lips nervously.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“…and?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“You’re going to have a report to make, in about- ”Korsak glanced at his watch, “-thirteen minutes. He wants you in his office, now.” He kept his voice steady, not betraying his glee.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“…Shit,” Cavanaugh muttered, looking back angrily at the officers milling around at the entrance. “Fine. I’ll have to give the officers some final orders-“</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“-actually, you won’t,” Korsak interrupted him calmly. “Surel has placed me in charge here.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">Cavanaugh stared at him for one long, silent moment.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Surel placed YOU in charge of my crime scene?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“The crime scene you helped create, yes,” Korsak was done pulling his punches, and let enough of his anger trickle through to show Cavanaugh just how truly pissed off he was. “You’d better get moving. He wants answers, LIEUTENANT, and he wants them from you.” Pale faced, Cavanaugh said nothing as he headed inside Headquarters. Watching him go, he didn’t notice Dr. Isles come up behind him.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Korsak.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Yeah doc?” He glanced down at the petite woman, who looked unbelievably tired from the days events.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Marino held on long enough to be transported. I don’t know if he’s going to make it, but…”studying his expression, she got defensive. “I couldn’t let him die, Detective, no matter how much you, Frost, or the whole BPD wanted me to.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Why the Hell not?” He blurted out, before he could stop himself, tears shining in his eyes. “That traitorous son of a bitch was gonna kill her, Doc! He was gonna kill her, and you let him live!”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I had to,” She replied softly. “I had to save him, Korsak. If I hadn’t at least tried, then Hoyt would be right about me, and I’m not about to give that bastard the satisfaction.” Korsak knew what she was referring to, of course; Jane had mentioned it to him awhile back in passing that Hoyt had managed to freak out the good Doc when she had first visited the serial killer, and had given him the details. Both Detectives had agreed that Hoyt was just a complete douche, trying to plant little seeds of doubt in those whom Jane trusted most.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">Korsak studied her for a moment, then grunted.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Fine, you did your good karmic deed for the day; I just hope you’re not looking for him to return the favor, that dirty son of a bitch,” he growled, interrupting their conversation to tell a CSU tech to snag everything and take it to the State Police Crime Lab, as their own was hopelessly contaminated by virtue of it being a crime scene. The tech nodded and ran off, and Vince turned his attention back to Maura. “If that shithead survives the night without someone adding another bullet to his body, I’ll be shocked.” Maura sighed, and said nothing, as the Commissioners vehicle pulled up to the sidewalk.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>Now the real fun begins…<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; margin-left: 0.5in;"><i>“<span class="apple-style-span">It's the glare from the reflection</span><br /><span class="apple-style-span">Making patterns in your eyes</span><br /><span class="apple-style-span">It's the looking back in anger</span><br /><span class="apple-style-span">With every second slipping by…<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">She fought to remain conscious,&nbsp;staring fixedly at her younger partner, terrified that she HAD DONE IT THIS TIME and that this was THE END.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Don’t you give up on me Jane,” Frost said, his voice cracking. “Don’t you dare…Korsak will fucking kill me if you do, you know he will. Don’t you dare let go.”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; margin-left: 0.5in;"><b>I wont but oh Jesus fucking A it HURTS<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px;">She could hear monitors going off, but could barely comprehend what they meant, and began to lose her grip.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; margin-left: 0.5in;"><i><br /><span class="apple-style-span">Undertow has come to take me</span><br /><span class="apple-style-span">Guided by the blazing sun</span><br /><span class="apple-style-span">Look at everything around us</span><br /><span class="apple-style-span">Look at everything we've done…<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; margin-left: 0.5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">Her body arched uncontrollably as they shocked her heart with paddles; Frost could only look on, horrified, as the monitors kept shrilling their cry that there was no heartbeat.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Jane, please…for the love of Christ don’t you go…!”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; margin-left: 0.5in;"><span class="apple-style-span"><i>Please, anyone…</i></span><i><br /><span class="apple-style-span">I don't think I can… save myself</span><br /><span class="apple-style-span">I'm drowning here please, anyone…</span><br /><span class="apple-style-span">I don't think I can… save myself…</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; margin-left: 0.5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">Again, her body arched as they used a higher amperage, and again, there was no change. Frost glared at the EMT’s, all of a sudden furious that they couldn’t do their damned jobs, when Jane had gone above and beyond the line of duty to do hers, and was paying for it, possibly with her life.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Goddamn it,” Frost grabbed the paddles out of the startled hands of one of the EMT’s, and pressed them down hard into her chest. “Do it! NOW!”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; margin-left: 0.5in;"><br /><span class="apple-style-span"><i>There's a tiny little window</i></span><i><br /><span class="apple-style-span">Swarms of locusts fill the sky</span><br /><span class="apple-style-span">Maybe I just disappear, If I can</span><br /><span class="apple-style-span">Keep my head above the tide…<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; margin-left: 0.5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="apple-style-span">Her body jerked a third time, and there was the sound that Frost burst into tears when he heard – a steady beeping, coming from the portable EKG machine.</span><br /><br /><i><o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; margin-left: 0.5in;"><span class="apple-style-span"><i>Please, anyone</i></span><i><br /><span class="apple-style-span">I don't think I can…save myself</span><br /><span class="apple-style-span">I'm drowning here please, anyone</span><br /><span class="apple-style-span">I don't think I can…save myself…</span><br /></i><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">When the ambulance finally pulled into New England Baptist, Frost could have sworn he’d never been more relieved to get to a hospital in his entire life.<o:p></o:p></div><div><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Laikifanfiction/~4/LgKzvGiAl_c" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>icequeen100http://www.blogger.com/profile/14832331155600429798noreply@blogger.com0http://laikifanfiction.blogspot.com/2010/11/blue-line-2.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2017478308955813346.post-50664728915226156992010-11-02T05:09:00.001-07:002010-11-02T05:14:17.278-07:00The Blue Line<h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 20px; position: relative;">The Blue Line (Rizzoli &amp; Isles fanfic)</h3><div class="post-header" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.6; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div class="post-header-line-1"></div></div><div class="post-body entry-content" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 580px;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">Problems with the season finale: Unless it was a&nbsp;<b><i>SERIOUS ATTACK</i></b>&nbsp;on Boston (like 9-11 or something similar) There is&nbsp;<b>NO WAY IN HELL EVERY COP WOULD BE PULLED FROM HQ</b>. Come on now. Especially since they’re not the only ones that work there (Civilians make up quite a bit of the employees at HQ - How would I know, you ask? Because I used to work there ;)&nbsp; Since HQ is independent of any district, if anything the commanding officer at the scene would be pulling officers from B-2 or D-4…and the ME’s office isn’t at HQ either (I know, NITPICKING!) And you KNOW people on the outside would hear the gunshots, geez! Anyways, the real life HQ is ten times more awesome… At least ten times more...pretty much fact. Going to be slightly off because I’m not following the locations in the show.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">Anyways, here we go. I don’t own anyone/ anything.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>*** *** *** ***<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">Pain.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">That’s all she felt as she squeezed the trigger, feeling Bobby’s body jerk against hers with the impact of the bullet entering his body. She felt a seconds worth of triumph before pain overtook everything else; Korsak and Frost’s horrified expressions stood out in contrast to everyone, everything else.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>I’m a cop. It’s what I do&nbsp;</b>was her last truly coherent thought before her thoughts dissolved from the wracking pain in her side as she and Bobby Marino fell to the sidewalk outside of the building she considered her second home.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">Blinking, she could see Korsak and Frost running towards her in slow motion before she felt herself lifted gently into a sitting position.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Oh Jesus JANE,” Maura sobbed, trying to stop the bleeding, “what the Hell did you DO…”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I’m…I’m a cop,” Jane whispered, tears coming to her eyes as she suddenly realized she would have done nothing different. “It’s what I do…”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“EMS’s on its way,” Frost said, kneeling by the two women. “It’s going to be here any minute.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Frankie…”Jane moaned in pain and winced before continuing. “Frankie goes first, Frost, Frankie goes first! My fault…he’s on the job…” She chuckled suddenly, then cried out in pain, the tears running down her face. “Shit…ma’s gonna fuckin’ KILL me…Tommy’s coming home and we’re throwing a party…shit,” she gasped, clamping her eyelids shut as another wave of pain overwhelmed her, threatening to make her pass out.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“You’re both going with the damned bus,” Korsak said, his voice on the verge of tears, “and you’re both going to pull through, you hear me? You’re both gonna be fine!”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I hear you Korsak, Jesus…I hear you…” The sound of sirens could be heard in the distance; many sirens, from all possible directions. Frost glanced up.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Cavalry’s coming, by the sounds,” he said softly, as Boston EMS flew up Tremont Street, followed by what appeared to be dozens of cruisers.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Bobby,” Jane gasped, finding it more difficult to form words. “Is he…?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">Maura passed Jane gently over to her past and present partners (who spent the last couple of seconds before the ambulance came to a stop in front of them reassuring themselves and Jane that everything was going to be fine) and checked out the dirty cop, whom, Maura noted in the back of her mind for future reference, every officer and Detective on scene (at least for the moment), was actively ignoring, as if the man was nothing more than a piece of trash. Many were heading into the building, in order to make sure that there were no other hostage takers,&nbsp; to search for more wounded, or to reassure and release members of the civilian HQ workforce, who had probably had to deal with quite a bit themselves.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>In their mind, that’s exactly what he is,</b>&nbsp;she reasoned.&nbsp;<b>A piece of trash, a dirty cop IAB didn’t pick up the scent on who took one of their own hostage and was probably going to kill her whether he got out free and clear or not. They are letting him reap the consequences for his actions.<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">She checked his pulse; thin and thready, but still there, even though his blood mingled with the dirt and cement of the sidewalk. She looked into his eyes, and oddly enough (she would worry about this later) she felt nothing. No pity for this fellow human being who was bleeding out next to her best friend; nothing at all.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“H…help-me…” He gasped, bloody froth spilling from his mouth as he gasped for air. “…please…”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">Maura glanced at Jane who was being loaded onto a stretcher, and could only feel relief that because of the EMS’s quick response time her friend had a fighting chance. Her thoughts sobering, she turned her attention back to Bobby Marino. She held his life in his hands, and they both knew it.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>God help me,</b>&nbsp;Maura thought,&nbsp;<b>what do I do?</b></div></div><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Laikifanfiction/~4/Mhkuxkm9i64" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>icequeen100http://www.blogger.com/profile/14832331155600429798noreply@blogger.com0http://laikifanfiction.blogspot.com/2010/11/blue-line.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2017478308955813346.post-75127788889670987982010-11-02T05:08:00.000-07:002010-11-02T05:13:55.520-07:00iydkmigthtky (chapter 2)<h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 20px; position: relative;">iydkmigthtky (chapter 2)</h3><div class="post-header" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.6; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div class="post-header-line-1"></div></div><div class="post-body entry-content" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 580px;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">So, here's the second "chapter" of my story. If the first one creeped you out, this one probably will too, lol. It also helps if you're familiar with the show and the books, as this chapter kinda borrows from both. Don't own them, per usual. If you think you're going to be giving me strange looks next time you see me, then...don't read, haha! Once again, based heavily on the Pilot and I'm Your Boogie Man episodes of Rizzoli &amp; Isles.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">The two women took Jane’s car. Maura glanced over at her silently, studying the other woman’s profile in the pre dawn lights of Boston. While she seemed alert enough, and outwardly calm, her hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly, and she was clenching her jaw once more.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">Sighing, Maura broke the silence.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“…You had a nightmare about him, didn’t you?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Yeah.” Maura winced. Jane clearly didn’t want to talk about it, but Maura pressed on.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“What happened?” Jane groaned inwardly.&nbsp;<b>Man, when Maura wanted to be a bulldog about something, she would just not let it go. She’d be good at interrogating perps…</b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b></b>“You don’t want to know.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Yeah, I do. Jane, you can’t keep it bottled up inside like this.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Goddamn it, Maura…”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Tell me. No arguments.” Sighing, Jane began to talk.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“It was similar to a dream I had last week,” Jane said finally, turning onto Huntington Avenue, heading towards the Prudential Center. “Hoyt was in my bedroom, talking trash to me and fondling his scalpel…at the end of the dream, he plunged the damned thing into my hand and I woke up.”&nbsp;&nbsp;Studiously ignoring Maura’s worried look, Jane glanced up at the empty and unlit walking bridge overhead, before pulling into the Pru’s underground garage. Observing that Korsak and Frost were already present, as well as someone from Isles’ office, the two women got out of the vehicle.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Where is the crime scene located…?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“At the Mariott. According to Frost it looks like a suicide, but we’ll see.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">Walking across the street, they entered the ritzy hotel and made their way to the laundry room, where Frost (who was looking rather green), Korsak, various other police and Crime Scene Techs, as well as some of Maura’s people were hanging around the scene.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Hung herself with a bed sheet, by the looks,” Korsak grunted, eyeing his previous partner closely. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“You get any sleep?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Nope, too busy fantasizing about you, tough guy,” Jane retorted with a smile. Korsak chuckled and shook his head.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“You’re killing me Rizzoli, for real. Killing me.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I do what I can. Find anything to the contrary?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Nope, girl left a suicide note. Still working it though so we’ll see.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Well then,” Maura said with a smile, “Let’s get cracking.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>Souza-Baranowski Correctional Center<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">I haven’t been able to sleep.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">Every time I try, dark eyes stare back at me, and I shiver with the anticipation of seeing those eyes widen in fear and pain.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>Am I ever your lover…<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">I smile, tenderly touching the scars on my face.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>Oh Janie, you’ll never be rid of me. I’ve already marked you twice, and like you said, “we match”. Oh we do, baby. Indeed we do.&nbsp;&nbsp;I wonder what your answer would have been to that question had we not been so rudely interrupted by your pet detective? Either way, I know. You and I are like fire and ice; Yin and Yang; two sides of the same coin.<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>I ALWAYS finish what I start, Janie…always. And soon, you’re going to be mine…whether you like it or not.<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;">I smile with this last thought, and close my eyes, sliding into sleep.</div></div><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Laikifanfiction/~4/PlZpSkgkZGg" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>icequeen100http://www.blogger.com/profile/14832331155600429798noreply@blogger.com0http://laikifanfiction.blogspot.com/2010/11/iydkmigthtky-chapter-2.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2017478308955813346.post-89979037688295730472010-11-01T21:32:00.001-07:002010-11-02T05:12:53.862-07:00IYDKMIGTHTKY<h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 20px; position: relative;">IYDKMIGTHTKY</h3><div class="post-header" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.6; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div class="post-header-line-1"></div></div><div class="post-body entry-content" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 580px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"></span></span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">So, um...hey all! I don't normally post any fanfic outside my regular site, so...this should be interesting. But anyways, here goes. Leave a comment, but if you flame me, chances are you're going to get flamed back, lol ;)</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">*****************************************************************************************</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Welcome to iydkmigthtky, AKA&nbsp;<i>If You Don’t Kill Me, I’m Going To Have To Kill You</i>. Named after one of my favorite Type O Negative songs (RIP Peter Steele), this title basically applies to the messed up relationship Rizzoli has with her nemesis Charles Hoyt, which should be familiar to anyone who’s read the books by Tess Gerritsen or seen the tv show (this story follows the tv show, specifically the episodes&nbsp;<i>Pilot</i>&nbsp;and&nbsp;<i>I’m Your Boogie Man.&nbsp;</i>AU for IYBM- Jane kills the perp at the end of the epi instead of her brother.)<i>&nbsp;</i>I don’t own the show, or the characters, so don’t sue me cause I have no money, and it will be updated...whenever it gets updated. Probably going to be “rated” NC-17/M for subject matter…</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><b>IYDKMIGTHTKY<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">&nbsp;Jane Rizzoli slept soundly in her bed as Maura checked on her, before making some tea. The events of the past week had been harrowing, with their small team finding out that Hoyt had a little acolyte who would have had no issues whatsoever killing Jane’s brother and Jane herself, all for Hoyt’s love and attention. The thought of&nbsp;<i>who else Hoyt may have taught, who else could he have trained</i>, rose unbidden to the forefront of Maura’s thoughts, and she frowned, shivering in the apartment, even though it was a balmy 75 degrees inside.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">She had heard that Hoyt was dangerous, but that was made all the more clear to hear when she finally met him. He wouldn’t stop his obsession with her friend; that much Maura was sure about, and she wasn’t certain that she herself wouldn’t be used as bait in a future encounter with him or his friends.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><i>Scared, Maura?</i>&nbsp;A tiny voice teased, unbidden.&nbsp;<i>You could leave Boston, be safe. Find a job anywhere, be making more money. Or, you could stay and be Jane bait. Your life’s work reduced to being nothing more than a body on a slab, a pawn in a deadly game of cat and mouse.&nbsp;&nbsp;No one would blame you for leaving-</i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><b>I would blame me,</b>&nbsp;she thought firmly, drowning out the voice of doubt<b>.&nbsp;&nbsp;I would blame me, and if anything happened to the team or, god forbid, to Jane because I wasn’t here, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.</b>&nbsp;Her eyes began to water from the sudden influx of emotion, and she sniffed, hurriedly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand before grabbing her Starbucks coffee mug which she frequently left here by mistake.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><b>Trying to lure Jane over to the Dark Side of the Grind</b>, she thought, remembering an argument they had previously over the taste differences between Starbucks and Dunkin Donuts, and she snickered to herself, pouring hot water into the mug. She was about to decide which tea to have when she heard a noise coming from Jane’s bedroom. Frowning, she opened up Jane’s door and walked inside quietly.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Her friend was in the throes of a nightmare- that much was obvious. Jane had the blankets that covered her in a death grip, the scars from Hoyt’s scalpels faintly visible in the moonlight. Her face was a mask of agony, tears sliding out from under tightly shut lids.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><i>“Hello again Janie,” Hoyt whispered, smiling down at the terrified Detective, who found she seemed to be paralyzed.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><b><i>How did he get in here? Oh my God how did he get in is Maura ok oh shit oh shit oh SHIT why can’t I MOVE<o:p></o:p></i></b></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><i>“Did you miss me? I know I certainly missed you, baby. Emily Stern, she tried to take your place, but you showed her, didn’t you…? You showed her that the only one good enough to stand by my side was you.” He smiled, patting a scalpel thoughtfully against the side of his face. “I have to thank you, Janie. You did me a favor…and you proved your love for me at the same time. Killed two birds with one stone- or should I say bullet?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><i>“Go fuck yourself,” Jane spat, feeling dread crawling around her body. “I can’t stand you, you sick son of a-“<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><i>“-Janie, language!” Hoyt laughed, leaning over her. “As I told your friend Maura, I want to feel your blood over my hands, and I will. It’s time for me to finish what I started…”<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><i>The scalpel plunged down-<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Her eyes snapped open as she screamed in remembered pain, her scars seemingly on fire.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">“Jane, it’s ok, it’s ok!” Maura ran to her friends side, touching her gently on the shoulder. “It was just a nightmare, he’s not really here!”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“It..God…” Jane attempted to compose herself, wiping her wet eyes with one hand. “It felt so real…”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“It wasn’t…he was never here in your apartment…you’re safe.”&nbsp;&nbsp;<b>We’re safe,</b>&nbsp;Maura thought, sighing.&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane looked up at her and nodded, relaxing briefly before glancing at her cell phone.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Jesus…4:30 in the morning…” Jane groaned, sliding her legs over the side of her bed. Running a hand through her sweat-soaked hair, Jane shuddered slightly before glancing up at her friend. “Shit Maura, did I wake you…?”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I was already up…are you ok?” Jane clenched her jaw tightly for a minute, as if biting back a retort.&nbsp;&nbsp;Sighing, she shook her head.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“No. No I’m not. But I don’t see how I have any choice in the matter-“ Both women were startled by the sound of Jane’s cell ringing shrilly in the darkness, and Jane groaned, answering it.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Rizzoli.” She listened to the voice on the other end. “Okay. I’ll be there shortly.” Hanging up, she glanced up at Maura, her face grim. “We have a case.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 26px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Hop into the shower, I’ve already been.” Jane nodded as Maura went out into the living room to wait. This conversation wasn’t finished, not by a long shot…</span></span></div><div style="color: #b8b8b8;"></div></div><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Laikifanfiction/~4/AH84AZdFHlk" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>icequeen100http://www.blogger.com/profile/14832331155600429798noreply@blogger.com0http://laikifanfiction.blogspot.com/2010/11/iydkmigthtky.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2017478308955813346.post-81452919523791170902010-11-01T21:28:00.000-07:002010-11-01T21:28:33.199-07:00So...After thinking about it, I decided to move my fanfiction here, lol.<img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Laikifanfiction/~4/QqzXj0a2-D0" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>icequeen100http://www.blogger.com/profile/14832331155600429798noreply@blogger.com0http://laikifanfiction.blogspot.com/2010/11/so.html